CHAPTER 75: THE SKINWALKER CHIEF

Selthia looked a little confused about what I was trying to do, but in the end, she complied and held up her hand. It went to show the level of trust she had in me over such a short time. I felt a little satisfied seeing this.

"Who are you?" the man leading the group of skinwalkers asked. Like most skinwalkers, he was a man with brown skin and a muscular build.

"We’re werewolves. We were just passing through. You see, a yokai has taken over the land leading to my pack. We were forced to find another route to get there."

The skinwalker looked at us with disgust, then spat.

"Wolves, I should’ve known. This is skinwalkers’ territory. You’re not welcome here."

"We’re just trying to go home. If you let us go, we’ll pass through immediately," I said.

The skinwalker stared at me blankly before saying:

"Tie them up. We’re taking them to the chief."

Selthia stared at me intently. I could tell she wanted to react but was holding herself back. I said nothing and allowed myself to get captured. Seeing this, Selthia also allowed herself to be captured without a fuss.

"The girl is quite pretty. Do you think the chief will let us have her?" one of the skinwalkers asked. He was short and had a small scar over his left eye.

The leader of the group frowned at him.

"No matter how beautiful she is, she’s still a wolf."

There were seven of them in total, and they all seemed infatuated by Selthia’s beauty. They hardly made an effort to cover up their lustful gazes, while Selthia stared at them as if they were nothing but garbage.

"Hey, do you think she could be the moon princess we’ve heard so much about?"

"I wouldn’t be surprised. God, she’s even more beautiful than the rumors say."

The men continued to whisper among themselves. They were practically drooling.

Soon, we arrived at the skinwalkers’ territory. It was a sizable village made up of small huts. The villagers looked at us with curious gazes as we were paraded through the streets.

"Do you know what they are planning to do to us?" Selthia asked.

"Kill us, what else. They’re probably going to try to make a spectacle of our deaths."

Selthia just looked at me and nodded.

"Aren’t you going to ask if I have a plan?" I asked. It struck me as odd that she was just going along with what I was doing without putting up much of a fuss.

"You are my alpha. I’ll trust you with my life for now. But I won’t give myself over to you fully until you’ve proven yourself capable. I’ll only follow you, and if you prove yourself to be a worthless fool, then I’ll leave. But if you prove to me that you are capable of taking care of my needs, then I’ll stick with you no matter what."

That sounds reasonable. I made a promise to her that I would feed her. If I couldn’t do that, then it made sense that she would leave.

"And I’ll take your heart with me for all he trouble," she whispered while smiling daintily.

The children in the village laughed and danced as we were marched over to a holding pit, which was then covered by metal bars once we entered.

"It stinks in here," Selthia said.

It really did stink. It stunk of death and decay. I wondered how many werewolves had died here. Selthia held onto my hand and leaned onto my shoulder as we waited in the holding pit.

Nearly an hour later, we finally heard footsteps approaching, and soon there was someone standing over us.

"Here they are, chief."

This is their chief?!

The first thing that caught me off guard about the man standing above us was his appearance. His head was malformed, as it looked almost like a snake’s head. He had a long, slitted tongue that flickered in and out of his mouth, licking the air. His eyes were like a reptile’s, slitted and yellow.

The man was scrawny in appearance and he had a hunched back. He almost looked a bit sickly. A devilish smile appeared on his face as he stared at us.

"Kukuku... more wolves to the slaughter." His slitted eyes turned predatorial. "We’ll have a huge celebration celebrating your death. It will be a huge spectacle."

"You’re the tribal chief," I asked. "Your appearance looks different from other skinwalkers."

"Curious about my appearance, hmm? Even though you’re about to die." He grinned with two pointed fangs protruding from his mouth. "Well, if you must know, then I suppose I’ll tell you: My father turned into a snake and fucked a lamia. That’s why I look like this."

A lamia was a supernatural creature with the top half being a human woman and the bottom half, from the waist down, being a snake. They were like vampires in a way, as they had a strong craving for blood, except they had one of the most potent venoms in the supernatural world.

"The bitch was his slave. I would usually be curled up in a corner, covering my ears as I was forced to watch. Interestingly, my mother and I shared a cell just like this. My father kept us locked up as he didn’t want the village to know his naughty little secret. She was a kind woman, my mother; she always treated me kindly despite our situation. But I still killed her the moment I got the chance. I killed her along with my useless father." His grin widened. "You want to know what I think?"

"TMI."

"I think that bitch liked getting fucked. And I think a twisted part of her liked the idea of me watching. That’s why I look like this."

"Enough." I couldn’t take anymore of his twisted story. I’d much rather he speed up the process of killing us.

Even the skinwalkers who were standing guard had a frown on their faces.

"I actually wanted to speak with you," I quickly said before he continued his story. "I’m sure you’ve had the same problem as us with the Nyx pack."

"The Nyx pack?" He snickered, then spat inside the pit. When his spit hit the ground, it began melting through the concrete. "You mean to tell me that you belong to that pack?"

"No, that’s not the case. What I’m here to offer you is an alliance."